Sunday, October 3, 2010

Day 276 - Where's My Hasenpfeffer!

We went to see Polkaboy in Franklin* by way of Bloomington. Upland Brewery was having a wee bit of an Oktoberfest, which is German for "Excuse to drink beer and eat Bratwurst".

The blurb on the website promised beer, food, and bands. I expected a tent with a line, at the front of which you could obtain beer and food, and listen to bands. As happens with expectations, mine were not exactly mated up with reality.

There was a tent. Under the tent was the band. The beer and food was just regular service off the menu. There was dining outside, that came with a complimentary wait of 15-20 minutes.

Did I mention that I'd not eaten lunch, leaving a canyon in my belly for a pile of brats?

We opted to dine inside.

We got menus, and there it was... about 3/4 of the way down...

Wait. First, background/a confession.

I used to have a class C obsession with Bugs Bunny. Not the actual bunny, that would be sick. The cartoons.

For several months, many, many years ago, I recorded 4 hours of cartoons on TBS. Every day. And I edited that 4 hours down to just the Bugs Bunny episodes. Every evening. I was not well.

Ok... where was I... oh yeah... on the menu was something that I'd assumed, up to that moment, that only existed in the delightfully demented world of Looney Tunes.


Braised Rabbit.

I had to have it.

Ok, for those who haven't had an OCD thing with Bugs, there is a Bugs Bunny cartoon, rather famous one in fact, where in the king demands that his cook, portrayed by Yosemite Sam, fixes Hasenpfeffer. [Thanks to the magic of the interweb and YouTube, you can watch it from the comfort of your virtual world.]

"Cook! Where's my lunch?!? Where's my dinner?!? Where's! My! HASENPFEFFER!!!"

So you can see I had no choice.

I forewent my brat and ordered the Hasenpfeffer.

And it was delicious! --- is what I would say if it was really, really good. But it wasn't.

It was... ok. Kinda dry. Lots of tiny bones. It was like eating a grouper crossed with a chicken and a squirrel.

But, now I can say, I've had hasenpfeffer... and it tasted nothing like carrots.

Oh, and there was this...

Good running,

*DR365 Trivia - I was born in Franklin.

Numbers: 3.1 miles on roads.